


The Game Parlor

by bobhorticulture



Series: The Game Parlor [1]
Category: The Night Circus - Erin Morgenstern
Genre: A New Tent, Gen, Graphic Description, I was playing bingo with my grandpa and this happened whoops, The Game Parlor, bingo but it's classy, this is the first creative thing I've ever written or published pls be nice thank you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 04:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15901371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobhorticulture/pseuds/bobhorticulture
Summary: A look inside the new tent at the Night Circus.





	The Game Parlor

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've ever written ever so I have very low standards for myself. Thanks to @elisethewritingbeast for showing me what good writing looks like for the past several years.

Unlike many of the other tents in the circus, the Game Parlor is given a name that explicitly describes its contents, although its nomenclature does not prepare the visitor for the sheer opulence within. The average circus-goer expects an environment quite similar to, albeit slightly more upscale, the seedier gaming rooms frequented by those unable to attend or afford more socially acceptable evening entertainment. Indeed, many visitors pass the Game Parlor without a second thought, or perhaps a sneer or expression of disgust at the patrons entering through the shrouded folds of the black and white striped canopy. 

However, braver men, or at least those with spare pocket change and a taste for new experiences, choose to pull back the corner of the heavy canvas and are immediately awed by the understated elegance of the interior of the tent. With its small round tables with inlaid black and white marble chessboards and billiards tables felted with black velvet, the Game Parlour is unlike any establishment, disreputable or otherwise, found anywhere else in the country. 

The atmosphere does not ooze elegance so much as imply sophistication and delicacy. While providing a familiar experience for those better off, the aura does not intimidate those of lesser means; no, it instead welcomes them. Here, all can play together, as equals. The decor is tasteful rather than tacky, with long strings of small white lights lining the ceiling of the tent, as well as being strewn artfully over high backed armchairs and overstuffed couches to create irregular patches of bright and dark throughout the room. These starry lights illuminate a wide variety of table, board, and card games, played by men and women of all ages, colors, and classes. A distinguished older gentleman with a well-oiled moustache and an expensive silver pocket watch plays billiards with a young man, more of a boy, really, who looked like the type to pick the pocket of his opponent had they met instead on a crowded train platform rather than the circus. Two young ladies gossip and giggle over an intricately decorated monochrome backgammon set, while two older boys, presumably their beaus, halfheartedly shuffle a deck of cards back and forth, playing a game known only to themselves. The emcee is clad impeccably in a tuxedo of creamy ivory, with ebony cufflinks and an icy white cap. One cannot perfectly determine their sex; the person is perfectly ambiguous, and the question of whether or not the emcee is several people (man, woman, and everything in between) or the same individual every evening is quietly debated amongst those who indulge in the mysteries of the circus.

 

The eye is immediately drawn to the back of the tent, directly opposite the entrance. There, chairs line a long table draped with heavy white cloth, large black and white paper cards laid out in front of each seat. Upon closer inspection, each card contains a row of letters across the top, with five rows of five numbers underneath; while the letters on each sheet all spell "Cirque," the numbers underneath vary from seat to seat, with no two containing the same arrangement of characters. In the middle square on each card, a small embossed logo of a circus tent is visible. At the far end of the table, on a slightly raised platform such that all patrons seated at the table may have an unobstructed view, is a small black-upholstered table and chair, seated at which is the circus employee. On the table sits a silver spherical cage, with a small handle on the side and a black metal stand. Inside the enclosure are small white marbles; they glow like luminescent pearls in the dim incandescent lighting of the tent. Inscribed upon each sphere in black curling font is a letter and a number. 

 

When the table is full, a game begins. 

The attendant turns the handle of the cage, and the balls make a soothing clacking sound, not unlike that of rain falling on hard pavement. After several turns, a cleverly disguised flap in the side of the globe opens, releasing a single ball down a silver ramp where it hits a small black pad at the end of the slope. The sphere is rotated several more times, spilling a single marble down the chute with each spin.

A hush falls over the players settle into their seats in anticipation. The emcee reaches for the ramp with a white-gloved hand, and delicately plucks the end marble from its siblings. Like all members of the Night Circus, the person on the dais does not speak. Instead, in order to announce the characters etched onto the ball, the attendant copies the symbols onto a large piece of slate next to the dais using chalk. This action is mirrored at the opposite end of the long table by a heretofore unseen assistant with another large slate tablet onto which the numbers are duplicated for those who are hard of sight or have their view obscured by others sitting at the table. Some quiet chatter can be heard as players consult with each other regarding the auspiciousness of their cards. 

As each number is written onto the panels, the participants check for a match on their own card. If one is found, the space is covered by one of the many black and white ceramic disks scattered over the tablecloth. As the round continues, and as boards begin to have more spaces covered than showing, an excited tension can be felt permeating the tent. A winner is declared when a player has a full row, column, or diagonal covered with discs. Victory is most commonly declared with an excited or surprised exclamation, with a background cacophony of the grumblings of those who were not so lucky.  
Once a winner announces themselves, the assistant approaches them and checks the squares that are covered to ensure no deception occurred. If the board is found satisfactory, the assistant nods to the attendant on the platform, who removes all the numbers called from that round from the board. A short recess is taken, and a new round begins.  
At some point before exiting the tent, each victor is approached by the assistant and wordlessly presented with their prize; sometimes an item of clothing, such as a scarf or hat, or a special batch of almond and licorice mice, or a pass for free admission to the circus the next night. The player never gets a choice in the reward received, but all who win marvel about the prize being exactly what they want.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my roommate for proofreading and giving me feedback even though she thought it was a class assignment at first


End file.
